My entire existence is predicated upon the fact that I will one day explode. It is the reason I was created, and the reason I live - so that I will die, hopefully taking another’s life with me. Unlike others, my being is made for killing, not living. I am nothing but a weapon - and not even a decent weapon, rarely able to do more than shrink my opponent. If I were to take my own life, I would be doing the world a great favor - for no one else would need to fear harm due to my presence.
One chance. I am given once chance to perform my duty of smashing Mario with the weight of my body. Should I succeed, I will merely reduce him from Large Mario to Smaller Mario, or (should he already be Smaller Mario) I will remove one of his many lives. However, if I should miss (and this is the far more likely scenario, as I am a bit overeager, and often drop myself before I should), he will run past me and I will be left to rot in this castle. I am incapable of lateral movement, and thus if I fail in my one task, the rest of my existence will be a Kafka-esque nightmare of nothingness. I will hover, touching the ceiling, with no reason nor ability to ever move again. I would kill myself, but I have no means by which to do so.